The Light In The Darkness
by Riku-Rocks
Summary: 30 one-shots, each based upon one of the prompts from Y!Gallery's 30 Elements of Darkness, which tell of Severus and Remus' growing and hidden relationship during both of the Voldy-Wars. Stories may be sweet, sad, violent, or anything in-between.
1. Drowning

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter, nor am I making any money from this work of fiction.

* * *

The first thing to hit him as he regained consciousness was the strong sterile aroma of starched sheets and disinfectant combined with the bitter scent of ointments and potions. It reminded him of the hospital wing back in Hogwarts…but it had been years since he graduated.

There was movement near him, and every instinct screamed at Remus to move away, but he could not even muster the strength to open his eyes. He weakly attempted to move his head as several strong hangs gripped his head and limbs. His attempt at protest came out a low, pained whine.

Madam Pomfrey clearly was not treating him. Stern though the matron might be, she was always careful with her charges. Whoever was treating Remus was manhandling him as they might a stray mongrel that they feared would turn feral at any moment.

He could smell the potion well before he felt the vile pressed against his mouth harshly. In less than a second, the vial was tipped back as the person holding him tried to force him to drink. Remus would have complied gladly under different circumstances, for he recognised the stagnant taste of the bone-mending elixir. Unfortunately, it was pouring into his mouth much too quickly and his gag reflex took over, causing the hands on him to tighten as he choked.

"You fools!" The voice was angry, deep, and familiar...although Remus could not quite place it at that pitch and tone…and past the considerable pain coursing through his body. "You are drowning him!"

There was a rustle and some irritated protests as the rough hands and unfamiliar presences moved away, not by their own accord by Remus' guess. However, he was still thankful for it, as he was able to weakly turn his head and cough out the remaining liquid in his lungs and oesophagus.

The irritated strangers were quickly silenced by the same voice. This time, it came as a deathly hiss, and Remus attempted to open his eyes again as he was finally able to place it. "Give. That. To. Me. _Now_."

The next thing Remus felt was the familiar touch of a cool, long-fingered hand on his forehead. It brushed his hair away from his face as another hand gently wiped away the spilled potion with a handkerchief. The lycanthrope relaxed marginally under the familiar ministrations.

After a moment to ensure that he was no longer choking, the hand in his hair shifted to lift his head slightly. The motion caused some pain, but the man handling Remus was one of the few who had his complete trust, so he did not attempt to protest. A vile was brought to his lips again, only gently this time.

"Slowly," the silky voice murmured as a mere sip of the foul concoction was slowly poured past his lips. The cool hand alternated between pouring the foul concoction and massaging his throat until the entire dose had been consumed. Then, his head was lowered and those hands continued to stroke his face and hair until the potion began to take effect.

It was painful for several long moments, but Remus was no stranger to pain. It also helped that those hands, as well as the familiar voice, continued to soothe him quietly until he could finally open his eyes.

He smiled faintly as a sallow face with a hooked nose and onyx eyes peered down at him past a curtain of oily black hair. "That's a nice view to wake up to." His voice was hoarse and weak, but he knew the man he was speaking to would recognise the sincerity. All the better if the others assumed he was being facetious, as they likely would.

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, allowing only Remus to see. His voice was it's usual wry drawl as he responded "Good, because I'll need to take you home with me tonight and wake you every few hours thanks to that concussion."

"Mm…I'm Sorry." While he did feel bad about upsetting the other man's sleeping pattern, he was apologising for so much more as well. He trusted Severus to understand that.

He knew that he did, when one of those familiar hands smoothed his hair back again, before Severus spoke once more, his voice closer and softer than it had been before. "I know…don't worry; you'll make it up to me."

"Of course…" Remus' face relaxed completely before he lost consciousness again. He understood that the other man's words were not a threat.

They still had to be careful. Severus could not tell him not to worry, that he would take care of him, nor could he ask the werewolf to promise him he would be all right. Remus could not apologise for worrying him so, or assure him that he would recover; that he had had worse…not while anyone else might hear.

Nevertheless, that was all right…because they both heard everything the other could not say.


	2. Sin

Severus closed the door behind him, locked it by both Muggle and magical means, and then put up every ward and spell he knew that would prevent anyone from entering, approaching, or even hearing him. Then, he threw his wand across the room, dropped his head in his hands, and slumped against the door. He stayed like that for some time before numbly removing his robes and heading toward the bathroom.

It was even longer before he emerged into his bedroom, hair dripping and skin red from the hot water and thorough scrubbing, though he still did not feel clean…he doubted he would for quite some time.

The Potions Master paused once his eyes fell on his bed and spotted an object that made him feel as though he had been punched in the stomach.

It was an old book; plain but durable, worn but serviceable, simple but comforting…much like the man that had given it to him.

Remus had been so sad that they could not be together for Christmas. He tried to hide it, and he did so very well, but Severus could read those gentle eyes and mild smiles as clearly as the pages of the book currently lying on his bed. Molly was insistent that Remus not be 'alone' for the holidays, however, and it was too dangerous to let any of the others know the two spies were together.

Instead, they had simply celebrated together a little early that year. Remus said that this particular book had reminded him of Severus even when he first read it in his teens. The title reminded Severus of Remus, however; as no one else seemed to share his view on the importance of being earnest…

Severus forced himself not to remember.

Remus had forgiven him every sin that others condemned him for, had offered understanding and compassion where all others had offered fear and loathing, had seen a man and an equal where everyone else saw a fiend full of deceit.

…But even Remus, unobtrusive and kind-hearted as he was, could not forgive this sin. Dumbledore had meant too much to them both for so long.

Severus stepped closer to the book before stopping in his tracks again, his usual instincts kicking in as he silently cursed himself for leaving his wand in the other room.

The book was turned to a different page than the one he had left it open to…his bookmark had not even been moved to attempt to hide the fact. Someone had clearly been in his house. It did not matter who; the Order, the Ministry, the 'other' Death Eaters…none could be trusted now. He took a quick glance around the room; there were no other signs of tampering and he knew he would have noticed if someone had gone through his sitting room, numb or not.

Returning his full attention to the book, Severus felt his heart rate speed up as a new sort of pain leaped into his chest.

Lying on one of the open pages was a fine hair. It was slightly waved, light brown with a touch of silver near the root, and around twenty centimetres long. Severus knew this hair and many identical to it; he had run his hands though it during passionate kisses, grasped it during rough lovemaking, and stroked it gently afterwards. He had seen a pair of warm eyes glance at him through it, and had brushed it away from those eyes many times. He had seen the touches of silver slowly make their presence known throughout the rich fawn colour, and seen it disappear entirely to be replaced by coarse fur for an evening. He had smelled it as the head it was attached to rested on his chest or shoulder, and kissed it as it trembled beneath him.

Severus had never given much thought to Remus hair before, and he was amazed that one single strand could make him feel and remember so much.

Looking more closely, for he knew Remus would not leave a hair behind by mistake, Severus noted the passage beside which the silver tip rested. The line that Remus had teased fit Severus to a T.

"_**I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That would be hypocrisy.**" _

"…_And what is that supposed to mean?"_

"_Oh come now, Severus. You can patronise and complain all you like, but you and I know that you are just as brave and noble as us Gryffindors at heart."_

"_I take umbrage to that, Remus." _

"_Don't worry…I'll keep your secret. I am very good at that, you know."_

"_I know; however, I am more interested in other things that you are very good at right now."_

"_Hmm…I suppose I need to make up for that Gryffindor comment…"_

"_That you do…and I have an excellent suggestion as to where you can begin."_

The raven-haired man forced the memory back there, not wanting to be distracted.

No matter how pragmatic or pessimistic Severus was, he could not help but feel a small tickling of hope.

Remus was asking a question of him. Remus suspected that there was more to recent events than met the eye. Remus knew Severus and, even more remarkably, he loved and _trusted _him.

Remus did not hate him yet. He was no doubt hurt and confused, but he was not willing to condemn him until he was certain. One of the many things that Severus respected about the werewolf was that he learned from experiences. The obsidian-eyed man wondered why he had not thought of that before. Of course, Remus would not repeat the mistake of believing someone he loved was guilty, just because it appeared that way.

Severus closed the book and headed for his sitting room to retrieve his wand. He still had a war to fight, a Dark Lord to destroy, and a lover to explain himself to when it was all over.


	3. Mourning

Severus sat against a tree by the lake. The recent lack of snowfall was rare for the time of year, but an approaching blizzard was supposed to make up for it. Most anyone would have enjoyed the view as the winter sun glistened off the water that rippled in an afternoon breeze.

Severus, however, had more important things to turn his attention to…such as the werewolf sitting between his legs and using his chest as a headrest. Not that the raven-haired man was uncomfortable; He had one arm wrapped around Remus' waist while the other held an open book in place on the shorter man's lap for both of them to read.

Severus would never admit it aloud, but now that the war was over, he practically lived for moments like this. He could not recall a time when he was more content.

The only thing that spoiled the moment was the fact that he could feel Remus' fever through their thick winter clothing, as well as the lycanthrope's uneven breaths.

"You're still having difficulty breathing," he commented.

Remus took the raven-haired man's hand and held it in both of his own. "I'm all right, Severus. It will just take a few more days. Don't worry…I've recovered from much worse."

The obsidian-eyed man knew that was true, but that did not mean he had to simply accept it. "Even still, you should take another dose of that healing draught I brewed."

"I'll do that when we head in, then," the fawn-haired man replied gently, and Severus could practically _feel _his mild smile, "Thank you"

The former Slytherin replied by giving his lover's hand a light squeeze.

The wolf had ceased to expect company during the full moon years before, as the war and their personal lives had prevented Remus' friends from accompanying him after they left school. However, it seemed that Remus' emotional state was affecting the wolf's, which was currently a major health risk.

The first moon after the loss of all his friends, Remus had still been in shock and the wolf had seemed oddly subdued. The past moon, however, was another story entirely. While not overly emotional, Remus was quite clearly in mourning…and his raw feelings of grief and pain seemed to cause his alternate form to mutilate itself with more ruthlessness than ever before.

It was terrible, and Severus had not felt so helpless since before the war. He had even considered studying to be an Animagi; however, Transfiguration had never been his area of expertise.

Advancing healing with potions and salves afterwards could only do so much, and Severus suddenly understood with heartbreaking certainly that the theories that werewolves have a much shorter lifespan than wizards were quite probable. Between the damage and trauma of the transformation and all the destruction the trapped werewolf inflicted upon itself, there was no way the body could last for long. This revelation had pained Severus until he realised something else as well.

If the wolf was responding to Remus' mental or emotional state, then their minds were definitely connected on some level. Many wizards had tried curing lycanthropy, but none had tried to affect _one _aspect of the transformation alone. They had never tried to simply prevent the inflicted's mind from transforming into a monster's.

The obsidian-eyed man knew that if Remus could keep his mind, his lifespan would increase notably. More importantly to society, werewolves would not pose such a threat and there would be less reason to apply such tight restrictions to them if they were not turned to raving animals during the full moon. While that was not his priority, Severus had seen the difficulty his lover had in keeping employment. Many scorned him simply when they suspected that the brown-eyed man might be a werewolf, never mind how kind and intelligent he was every other day of the month.

He could not help that, and Severus was not optimistic enough to try, but he could minimise the damage inflicted in Remus and the threat he posed to others.

The potion's master recalled that one of Slughorn's old favourites had been unsuccessfully working on a potion that was supposed to subdue werewolves during the full moon in lieu of curing them. If they were to combine their notes on lycanthrope biology…

"Severus?" Remus' hoarse voice interrupted the sallow-skinned man's thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

The obsidian-eyed man considered his answer in the span of a heartbeat. Remus would be immensely touched that Severus wanted to help him, but would be realistic and pragmatic about the results, having been promised cures and aid that never came in the past. However, the lycanthrope believed in him. That might outweigh his usual perspective.

…And Severus could not bear to add to the growling lists of disappointments that the shorter man had to endure. He could not offer hope until he knew the chances of success.

"I was just thinking of a possible variation in the healing draught for next month. I did not put as much thought into treating infection as I should have…"

"You did brilliantly," Remus nestled deeper against Severus' chest, "You don't have to perfect everything, you know."

"I know that," his reply sounded harsher than he had intended and he stroked his lover's hand in apology. "…But I can _improve _your current condition, and so I will."

Severus knew that Remus could sense that there was more to that statement, but the werewolf did not question him. The lycanthrope merely pulled his hand high enough to place a kiss against it. "I know, love…and it's enough for me that you want to try."

The sallow-skinned man knew that was true, but he also knew that trying would never be enough for himself.

With that thought in mind, Severus set his resolve. He had not lost Remus to Greyback, his parents' ill-attempted 'cures', lynch mobs, bigotry, Death Eaters, Black, or Voldemort…he had no intentions of losing him to lycanthropy.

They had both mourned enough.


	4. You Belong To Me

Severus would not say that he disliked Sirius Black. 'Dislike' simply was not an adequate word to describe the level of pure contempt that he felt for the other man. Severus _loathed _him…completely.

However, he was…_fond _-certainly no one would expect _Snape _to claim _love_- of Remus Lupin, who once again considered the wretched Black a friend. Therefore, Severus found himself in the unexpected and most irritating position of having to tolerate the escaped convict out of respect for his lover. It would have been much easier if Black felt the need to pay the same courteously to his friend.

As it was, both men needed to thank Merlin that Remus was so patient and forgiving, as far as Severus was concerned. He doubted Black was observant or considerate enough to notice how their tiffs distressed the already overtaxed werewolf. Especially since the entire Order left the handling of the mutt to Remus, as -ironically- he seemed to be the only one besides Dumbledore who could exercise any level of control over the insufferable man.

This is how Severus found himself standing in the hall one day, waiting for Remus to finish talking his half-mad friend down from some crazed notion that had entered his failing mind. Aside from the Potter brat's name, said brat's sire, and some talk of acting ones age, Severus could not make out what was being said, only that the conversation seemed to be getting heated, at least on Black's end. Remus' voice sounded hoarse and mild as always….until an uncharacteristically firm demand cut through the argument about a half hour after Severus arrived.

"Sirius, let go of me _now_."

That was all the incentive Severus needed to invade their privacy. Remus might have more backbone when it came to facing his friend now then when they were in school, but that did not mean he would not endure more than Severus was willing to allow.

Either Black had been respectful for once or Remus had removed the offending limbs, because Black was not holding onto Remus when Severus entered the room. He was, however, in the shorter man's personal space and practically radiating aggravation. Severus did not hesitate in casting a full body bind.

"Severus," Remus exclaimed as his friend's prone body hit the carpeted floor. "I told you I could handle this."

"Indeed," Severus lowered his wand but did not put it away. "It sounded more like Black was handling you."

The werewolf sighed and then glanced down at his friend, "Well I think we're done talking for now. Will you please wait in my room while I release him? I'll be there in just a minute."

"You have three," the raven-haired man replied before glaring down at Black, "After that, _I_ will handle this." Without waiting for a response, he turned and swept out of the room.

Two and a half minutes later, Remus joined Severus in his bedroom. The werewolf looked tired, but at ease, and his eyes were gentle as he asked, "What was that about?"

"It sounded as though you might need assistance," Severus commented dryly as he looked the shorter man over slowly before meeting his gaze.

"I'm fine, Severus," Remus answered the unspoken question calmly. "This is not the first disagreement Sirius and I have had since he's returned, you know."

"You've never used that tone before, and you have never mentioned him invading your person, as I assume you would."

"Of course," conceded Remus, looking slightly bemused. "He just lost his temper, Severus. It was nothing."

"Really?" Obsidian eyes narrowed slightly, "Where did he touch you?"

"_Where_…?" The werewolf repeated, looking thoroughly confused and then very thoughtful before his eyes widened slightly. "Severus, are you- You think Sirius made some sort of…sexual advancement on me?"

Severus arched an eyebrow, "And if I do?"

"Is that why you reacted as you did?" Remus frowned; "Severus, I already told you I have never been with Sirius…I've never even been interested in him. Most importantly, _I'm with you_. I certainly would never consent to-"

"That is precisely my concern," interrupted the raven-haired man levelly, although he was inwardly pleased by the sincere reminder of where his lover's interests lie. "One picks up a different set of morals in prison. You spend too much time alone in this house with an insane convict whom you trust too much. What would you be willing to do to defend yourself should he attempt to harm you?"

To Severus' satisfaction, Remus actually appeared to consider the question before responding sadly, "Anything short of killing or biting him. Or anything equal to that…we both know there are worse fates."

"I would still go further," Severus admitted quietly, "If it was necessary." He looked at his lover thoughtfully, "What about if it were me at risk? Then, what would you be willing to do?"

Remus did not contemplate this time, "Anything."

"Then do the same for yourself," Severus' tone was just shy of demanding, "Fight with everything you have for _my _sake. Be it against Lord Voldemort _or _Sirius Black. I won't lose you."

With a few paces, Severus closed the distance between them and lifted his hands to cup the perplexed lycanthrope's face. "I don't care what claims Black, Dumbledore, Greyback, or any others might believe they have on you. You belong to _me_."

As soon as the words passed Severus' lips, he questioned whether it was wise to say such a thing to a lover, especially one whose species was treated as subhuman. Despite that, he could not honestly say he regretted feeling that way…especially when Remus moved to press his lips against Severus' in a soft but fulfilling kiss.

Remus remained close enough for his lips to brush Severus' as he whispered, "I do. Never forget that." He then nuzzled his lover's jaw before pressing his face into the crook of Severus' neck and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Severus wrapped his arms around the shorter man and rested his cheek against his hair. Not for the first time, he wondered how all of the unsuitable things that he said and did managed to sit so right with Remus, as though the werewolf and he were speaking a completely different language from everyone else.

In the end, he supposed it did not truly matter, as long as Remus was his.

…He still loathed Sirius Black though.


	5. Perversion

Severus entered the kitchen to find his tea prepared the way he liked and the smell of freshly baked scones filling the air. Remus was sitting at the table, reading the paper.

"Anything interesting?" asked Severus as he sat with his latest issue of _Apothecary Journal_. Five years after Voldemort's disappearance and the pair still kept an eye out for anything that might indicate the return Dumbledore predicted. Severus no longer had much interest in the finer details of the world, and was generally content to let Remus sum up the news so he could only peruse the articles that interested him.

The werewolf answered in his usual mild manner, but with a strange undertone, suggesting a barely hidden emotion beneath. Severus was so distracted by the abnormal tone that he actually choked on his tea when he finally registered the words Remus had spoken: "Only a brief confirmation of your bestiality fetish."

The Potions Master put down his cup and stared down at the scarred man. "Excuse me?"

With a deep sigh, Remus put down the paper and looked up at his lover, exposing eyes that were red-rimmed and filled with shame. "They've finally managed to bestialise us. Werewolf legislative has been completely turned over to the beast department at the Ministry, which means you are officially shagging an animal."

Severus felt an immediate swell of anger rise in him. It took a lot to shake Remus, and even more to break through his tranquillity, but the bastards kept trying and it looked like they finally managed it. Knowing his anger was not something the shorter male needed to deal with, he swallowed the emotion and looked his lover over carefully.

The lycanthrope did not look angry and it appeared that he had cried before Severus' arrival. Now he looked beaten, as though this final slight had left him feeling unworthy and ashamed.

Remus pushed aside his untouched teacup and stood slowly, clearly not intending to eat breakfast. He stopped beside his lover as he passed and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Severus raised a hand to cup the scarred man's cheek and turn his head, holding his gaze with his own. "So am I."

The day passed quietly, only to make way for another blow to land the following day.

Remus had been working for a privately owned business that removed, relocated, and exterminated magical pests such as doxies, boggarts, gnomes, or creatures entirely more sinister. Remus had always had a wicked way with other magical creatures, making him an immediate asset.

Unfortunately, the talents the job required meant that it did not take long for his boss and co-workers to figure out what Remus was, but as the customers only saw what they assumed to be a thin and shabby, if polite and unassuming, man for a brief moment, they did not see the need to fire him upon discovery. They also knew that a werewolf was not likely to find steady work anywhere else and used this knowledge to take severe advantage of him. Still, they were the only employers that Remus had stayed with for more than a year.

"Well, at least it's a new record," commented the despondent lycanthrope after informing a newly infuriated Severus that he had been let go, due to the business' policy of not allowing animals on the job. "Sixteen months…not bad."

The obsidian-eyed man fumed silently from his perch on the sofa. He'd had mixed feelings about the job the entire time, hating it for the way his lover was mistreated but pleased to see Remus so happy to just find long-term work that he was actually talented in. "Perhaps the next one will match that without overworking an underpaying you."

The werewolf made a small hum of agreement before slipping his hand into the taller man's and leaning against his shoulder as he sat down beside him. "Maybe if I try for something less physical it will take longer to notice my condition…I noticed in the paper this morning that the bookstore in Knockturn is hiring." They both knew Remus hated Knockturn Alley, but he tried his best not to sound too displeased by the idea.

Severus was further irritated when he realised that his lover was clearly trying to comfort him when it was he who was being persecuted, however, he was also touched and realised he should have expected as much from the scarred man. With that thought in mind, the potions master began to relax as the werewolf started talking about a recipe he wanted to try for dinner that night.

Severus went out to run some errands when Remus went job-hunting again. Remus always ran the house while Severus was off teaching, but usually left certain tasks for Severus to perform when he was off for the holidays, such as restocking his potions supplies.

The potions master passed a queer little shop every time he visited his favourite apothecary, but he never paid it any mind. The only name he could think for it was 'fetish supply shop'. Normally, the obsidian-eyed man did not notice the place, and he tended to pity the people who required such acts of perversion to get their jollies off.

That day however, he noticed a section in the back marked _BDSM_ when a man leaving the shop held the door open for his partner. Severus slipped into the store for a closer look at the item that had caught his attention, which appeared to be a stainless-steel choke chain, as made for a decent sized canine. The tag attached explained it's magical properties. It could not slide over the wearers head, being too small, but would link itself magically around one's neck _only_ if they completely trusted the person trying to attach it. It would also come off only for the person who had put it on.

It was a gamble, but Severus was no coward and he desperately wanted to lighten his lover's recent depression. On his way out, he noticed with some pride that the patrons of the store gave him a wide birth…and he smirked upon hearing someone comment that he had the word 'master' written all over him as he left.

Severus complimented Remus on dinner as usual that evening, and listened to the painful mixture of contentment and woe in the werewolf's voice as he stated that he received the job in Knockturn Alley. When they returned to the bedroom later, he handed Remus a package.

"I thought you might like it," he commented in response to the werewolf's bemused expression.

The warm smile caused by his lover's thoughtfulness vanished once Remus saw the chain, and Severus wondered if his little gag-gift had been such a good idea after all as he watched the war of emotions cross his lover's face until it fell blank. Then, the lycanthrope held the chain out to Severus, who took it automatically before giving the shorter man a questioning look.

The light that had been missing from Remus' eyes the past few days shone through again as he offered his love a small smile, "Well aren't you going to put it on?"

The potion master smirked as his lover tilted his head to offer his neck to him. The smirk grew into a grin when the chain latched together under his fingers as soon as he brought it around the werewolf's neck. Once Remus straightened, Severus grasped the chain and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Hours later, Severus collapsed atop the lycanthrope and fingered the steel chain that was all the other man wore. "I don't think I am ever taking this off you if that's the effect it has on you."

Remus laughed breathlessly, "_Me_? I thought I was supposed to be the animal here…I won't be able to walk right for days."

Severus adjusted his weight onto his knees and elbows to avoid crushing his lover. Then he brushed a sweat-soaked lock of hair from the scarred man's face. "I'll have to do this more often then…wouldn't want my pet feeling neglected."

The brown-eyed man tilted his head to kiss his lover's palm and then sighed before gazing up into his eyes happily. "Good thing the new job won't require any running."

"Indeed," Severus smirked and straightened, running his hands down his lover's body, "Because if you can still think about that then I'm not done with you yet." His lover's eyes gave him clear permission to lift scarred hips and slam home again…which he did, moaning at both the incredible feeling and the sight of the chain shifting across Remus' throat as he cried out and grasped the headboard.

No one paid enough attention to the quiet, unhealthy-looking man that worked in the bookstore at Knockturn Alley to notice the glint of steel that sometimes peeked out of his shirt collar, and the usuals at the little shop by the apothecary still gave the obsidian-eyed 'master' a wide birth, even after six months of patronage.


	6. Betrayal

Severus sat at his desk, focusing on controlling the odd mixture of confusion, anger, guilt, and sorrow that he felt. It had seemed so simple that morning…painful, but simple. Remus had clearly betrayed him, and had been doing so all year as far as he knew. Now, the situation did not seem so clear, nor was he sure who had committed the betrayal between them.

Why would Remus ever help _Black_, who had hurt and betrayed him more deeply than any other? The werewolf loved Harry and always felt that he owed Dumbledore; he had only taken the job to protect the boy and oblige the old man. Moreover, Remus loved Severus and had never given him any reason not to trust him.

Yet the Potions Master had been so angry and sure while they were in the Shack, and as he let out Remus' secret over breakfast. That had been mere hours ago; still, Severus found his conviction and logic slipping away.

A soft knock pulled the tormented man from his thoughts. His mind fell completely blank when he opened the door to find Remus standing there, looking tired and worn, but smiling mildly.

"Hello Severus," Remus might have been greeting him for afternoon tea for all that his tone indicated, "May I come in?"

With a curt nod, the Potions Master swept aside and indicated a pair of chairs by the fireplace in his office. He noticed that Remus used a walking stick as he moved to take a seat and felt a new onset of shame at the thought that he had neglected to check on the werewolf after his transformation.

Not knowing how to broach the other subjects on his mind, Severus opened the conversation academically. "The Wolfsbane was not completely ineffective. The children's accounts, and the lack of injuries, all point to you having fled -once you warded off Black's attack- despite the fact that I was unconscious and the students were hardly a threat."

"I wasn't entirely myself, but I retained enough to know to get away from all of you…and I can remember nearly everything," Remus responded weakly and then added; "I owe you an apology, Severus."

The raven-haired man narrowed his eyes and arched an eyebrow, "Go on."

"Don't give me that look; I have _not_ been consorting with Sirius Black all year," a note of hurt entered the werewolf's tone. "I hadn't seen or spoken to him until last night…but I _have_ been keeping something from you."

Severus, feeling a strange sort of dread at those words, kept his expression neutral and nodded for the lycanthrope to continue.

"Do you remember the rumours from when we were students, about the DADA position? They've started up again…"

"Unless adolescent gossip about curses holds any importance to what you have been keeping from me-" The obsidian-eyed man paused abruptly when he noticed the expression on his lover's face. "Don't tell me…the position actually _is_ cursed. How…?"

"Voldemort wanted the job; Dumbledore refused him, so he saw to it that no one could hold the position permanently while he lived," Remus explained calmly. "Dumbledore doesn't want the rumours confirmed. I'm sorry."

"_You're_ sorry? Lupin-" Severus stopped, dropping the easy charade they had held all year, "Remus, I've _ruined_ you. You will be a pariah for the rest of your life…and for nothing. You never were a danger to anyone and Potter was never in any danger of Black, was he?"

"No, he wasn't," the werewolf agreed with a small shake of his head, "But who knows what might have happened if Peter had not been found out? You weren't present for most of what happened tonight, Severus, I'll show you what I can later but…you need to know that nothing was your fault."

"I allowed hatred and anger to control me," the Potions Master interrupted, "A great deal of what has happened would not have occurred otherwise."

"The curse fed your anger and vice versa," stated Remus gently, holding the other man's gaze. "The curse is designed to fulfil its objective in the most natural way possible, lest everyone would know about it. I started to notice something earlier in the year -your 'forced tolerance' of me was clearly becoming less of an act.

"…But I presumed that your trust in me would win out over the curse before anything irreparable could happen. I should have explained everything to you then," the werewolf smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Severus."

"If you're apologising for inflicting another curse upon yourself without consulting me, then you're not forgiven," the raven-haired man commented, "And if you're apologising for anything else, then it isn't necessary. I also noticed that my behaviour toward you was becoming…objectionable, yet I said nothing. We are both guilty of a severe lack of communication…but perhaps that curse was responsible, as we don't seem to be having that issue any longer."

Severus thought about his epiphany shortly before Remus' arrival; how it had felt as though a veil had lifted, allowing him to see his lover clearly once more. "You've resigned, haven't you?"

"Yes," the werewolf did not bring up the lynch mob that would have demanded his (at best) removal, for which Severus was grateful. "The students have taken their final exams and I only intended to stay long enough to ensure Harry's safety. He's safe enough now…" A fond sort of amusement touched Remus' eyes, "I'm perfectly confident that he'll be fine under your watch again."

"Always so forgiving," the Potions master stated quietly, "Perhaps that is why we have lasted this long."

Remus stilled at those words and he studied his lover's face worriedly. Noticing Severus' tense shoulders and hard eyes, he relaxed and smiled lightly. "It's why we'll last always."

Severus' tension ebbed immediately and his eyes opened as they only did for one man, "Indeed."

"I'll miss seeing you everyday, though," added the werewolf, sounding better than he had all year.

The Potions Master grinned slightly in return, "As will I."


	7. Sacrifice

Severus did not believe he had ever been angrier, nor had he hated the old man more than he did at that moment.

Part of him would actually have preferred to believe that he did it to himself, but he knew Dumbledore all too well…he manipulated his supporters like pawns in a chess game and no one could hope to see his strategy before he intended.

However, his most recent strategy might be demanding too much, as far as Severus was concerned. For Dumbledore, it wasn't much really. He was dying anyway, so why not use that to his advantage. It's what any good strategist would do.

For Severus however, it meant he had to forfeit everything he had fought to keep or lose all he had fought for already. It was an inescapable conundrum.

Only four people were of true consequence to Severus. Dumbledore, who had given him a chance to make things right despite his past errors; Voldemort, whose good graces he had to remain in if they had any chance of taking the lunatic down; and Harry Potter, who he hated but needed and anyway, he was Lily's son…that had to stand for something. Last but certainly not least, was Remus, the only person to show Severus the unconditional love that Dumbledore prattled on about constantly.

Now, Dumbledore wanted him to sacrifice each of them. If they were successful, Voldemort would be dead not long after Dumbledore, the Potter brat would hate Severus for the rest of their miserable lives whether he learned the truth or not, and Remus would be heartbroken regardless of the outcome.

He would lose all of them. Yet, it was the clearest way to save those that he could, and Dumbledore was not truly giving him a choice anyway.

Then, there was that damned Unbreakable Vow, as well as the fact that Draco, who Severus cared for, honestly did not deserve to be in his current position. The mistakes of his father and the demented will of a madman should not be his burden to bear, and unlike Severus, the boy still had a chance to avoid staining his soul.

In truth, Severus knew he had no choice from the moment Dumbledore made the 'suggestion', but that did not mean he had to accept it graciously and he certainly did not have to like it.

Severus grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and threw it into the fireplace before calling, "Remus!"

Seconds later, the werewolf stumbled out of the flames with a look of concern on his face. "Severus…what's the matter?"

The obsidian-eyed man shook his head dejectedly, his anger ebbing in the lycanthrope's presence. "I…I cannot tell you."

Remus simply placed a hand on the taller man's shoulder as he nodded his understanding. They both had become accustomed to comforting the other for trials they could not speak of; it was one of the many sacrifices they made as spies for the Order.

"I don't know if I want to do this any longer, Remus," Severus admitted bitterly. "I don't know if I _can_ do this. He may have finally asked for too much…"

The scarred man slowly pulled his lover into a gentle embrace, taking care that the other could pull away if he was still to angry for such tenderness. "We both have to do things that we regret, Severus. All we can do is trust that the end will justify the means. If you cannot trust that anymore…then don't do it. I'm not ready to lose faith yet, but I'll support you no matter what. You know that."

The obsidian-eyed man smiled sadly and pulled the lycanthrope closer. He pressed Remus' head against his shoulder and smelled his hair. Whenever he had moments of uncertainly, Remus always reminded him that they were in it together and that he would not fault Severus for quitting, whereas Severus always told Remus that they do what they must and that there would be time for the emotional breakdowns they deserved later.

He simply breathed in his lover's scent and enjoyed feeling his weight in his arms for a moment before responding, thanking Merlin for the werewolf's patience. "I know you mean to, but I doubt even you could condone this, should I see it through."

Remus frowned but tightened one arm around Severus' waist while running the other through his hair, not paying any mind to the oily texture as usual. "Your heart has always been in the right place. Unfortunately, that doesn't make these decisions any easier -and it makes them all the harder to live with- but whatever you choose, I'll know you did it with the best of intentions."

"Whatever my intensions and whatever my decision, someone who does not deserve to perish _will_," the raven-haired man murmured acrimoniously as he tightened his hold on the slightly smaller man.

The brown-eyed man ignored his lover's forceful grip and bitter tone as he replied honestly, "That's terrible, Severus…I'm so sorry." His ran his hand through the Potions Master's hair a few more times, knowing he enjoyed the feeling. "I wish I could do more to help…"

Severus loosened his hold enough to be able to look at Remus. Words about understanding and companionship were not for him, but he trusted the fawn-haired man to understand what he meant as he said, "Well, you aren't _entirely_ useless." He smiled weakly as he ran a hand down to the small of his lover's back.

Remus lifted his hands to cup each of the taller man's cheeks as he looked into his eyes seriously. "Just take care of yourself, whatever you decide, please."

Without waiting for a response, because he knew what it would be anyway, the werewolf leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Severus' lips. The raven-haired man wasted no time in deepening it, demanding more.

Tomorrow, he would bear the most difficult decision of his life.

Tonight, he would have the one thing he never wanted to sacrifice.


	8. Falling

Remus felt as though he were falling…endlessly, hopelessly spiralling downward with little chance of catching himself before he struck bottom.

It was all too much. First he and Severus had that rocky year while Remus taught at Hogwarts; then Sirius had returned and Peter might as well have risen from the grave; the following year had been very hard on Remus, between worries over the Triwizard tournament and being ousted; and finally, Voldemort had returned.

Afterwards, life became even more hectic and complex. Sirius and Severus fought as though they were schoolboys all over again. Severus and Remus had to take up their old positions as spies again. Harry remained in danger, and Sirius' grasp on reality was constantly under question. Old wounds reopened, but Remus could not bring himself to address most of them, leaving them to remain untouched instead.

Next, Sirius was gone. Harry and Severus were no safer. Tonks had some ridiculous infatuation with him and refused to cease her advances. Remus was spending most of his time underground, spying on other werewolves and feeling further from humanity then he had since before he attended Hogwarts. Old lines were drawn again, and Remus felt as though he had been fighting the same war for the whole of his life…then he realised that he had.

Remus knew a large part of his current disposition was due to Sirius' sudden death; that he had not properly mourned his friend. Harry and the other children had been in danger at the time and Remus needed to be calm and strong for them. Then, Voldemort no longer had to hide from the Ministry's gaze and so much happened at once that Remus fell into a strange numbness as he handled the aftermath.

What else could he do but continue as though nothing were the matter? He had done it before; had moved forward as though some part of him wasn't keening in agony inside. The werewolf honestly had to wonder how he was constantly the last one standing when he usually felt as though the ground had disappeared from under him.

Nevertheless, Remus continued on, as always. His only comfort came from the stolen hours that he and Severus managed to share, and the lycanthrope cherished every second of them, especially as they were about to become increasingly rarer once the new term at Hogwarts started again.

Recently, as though none of this were enough, Dumbledore decided that Remus should clean up Grimmauld Place in case Harry decided to check out the house that was now his. They would not want him to find out just how bad his beloved godfather had gotten towards the end, after all. The werewolf agreed, and began the painful task with the same aching forced-detachment as he had everything else up to that point.

It had been a silly thing, really, that had finally broken the lycanthrope's hazy shell. He was cleaning up some empty fire whiskey bottles that Sirius had hidden in a den, no doubt to avoid Severus' condescending remarks on his drinking. Severus always made it sound as though he were just taking an alternate attack on his old rival, but Remus knew that he was actually worried about how moody -and often angry- Sirius became when intoxicated, since Remus spent a good deal of time trying to exercise some control over his friend.

Thoughts of Sirius and Severus -and even Harry, James, Lily, and Peter- filled Remus' mind, choking him old and new pains and causing him to pummel down even faster, until he literally _was _falling. The werewolf's knees crushed the bottles when he landed, and he pressed his face into his hands as silent tears finally fell.

He could not say how long he kneeled in the broken glass, sobbing quietly, before he heard someone speak his name near the doorway, followed by the sounds of hasty footsteps and billowing robes. Then he felt the heat of another body kneeling beside him while strong hands grasped his shoulders.

"_Remus_!" Severus' familiar voice was like a balm to the werewolf's fractured soul, and he immediately leaned into his lover's hold. "Remus, what's happened? You're bleeding…can you stand?"

Severus pulled Remus against him as he stood, and lead him to a nearby chaise. Once they were seated, he kept one hand wrapped around the werewolf as he inspected his cut knees and shins. Remus took a few deep breaths, trying to pull himself together.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was halted by the obsidian-eyed man, "Do not even _think _of offering me any false assurances that you're all right." Severus began to remove the glass from his lover's legs carefully, "And don't you dare apologise either."

Remus, who had been about to do just that, closed his mouth and simply nodded.

Once all the glass was removed, Severus began closing the wounds with his wand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You have enough burdens to bear," Remus whispered hoarsely, "And you hated him."

"Are you not the one who took it upon himself to help me bear each of my burdens? I may have loathed Black, but that does not mean I want you to suffer alone in silence." Satisfied that Remus was not in danger of bleeding to death, Severus took both of the man's shoulders in his hands again and forced the werewolf to face him.

"I love you." Severus spoke those words so rarely that they awakened Remus as nothing else could have.

"I love you," Remus whispered in return, even though he said the words far more often.

Remus' tears abated quickly, and Severus shed none, but they remained there for some time, talking, touching, _feeling_, and simply taking some time to let the other know how important they were.

When they finally had to rejoin the world, Remus still felt as though he were falling, but he no longer feared the feeling.

He knew Severus would be there to catch him in the end.


	9. Haunted

The locals in Hogsmeade and the students at Hogwarts still believed that the Shrieking Shack was haunted…one of the most haunted places in all of Britain, in fact.

Sometimes, Severus could not help but think on that. He would actually pause in the middle of whatever he was doing as the full weight of the truth behind that local myth set in. Sometimes, he only just managed to suppress a shutter at the thought.

One unfortunate boy -over the course of only seven years, nearly a decade before- suffered so much within those walls every month that the sounds of his torment forever stained that location…until it came to be regarded as though it were as cursed as the young man himself.

Of course, Dumbledore, who no doubt encouraged them to protect both Remus and himself, helped the rumours along. Nevertheless, tales of the anguished spirits had started weeks before the headmaster made any comment on the matter. Severus thoughts came back around full circle…nearly a decade after they had been silenced, the screams of his terrified lover still haunted anyone who was unfortunate to have heard them.

Whenever a student was unfortunate enough to come around and notice one of Severus' momentary laps in concentration, they were promptly frightened off with a fierce glare or a smooth threat. His co-workers usually fared better, simply receiving a scalding look or a sarcastic quip of some sort.

Only Remus could get away with commenting about such moments. In company, his concern was simply waved off or the topic changed quickly and smoothly. When they were alone however, with no need for pretence or images, Severus would often stare at him with something close to wonder.

The raven-haired man could not bring himself to be cool or indifferent in the face of a man who could survive such incredible odds and so many horrid ordeals. Nor could he scoff or balk at a being that could be so calm and compassionate after surviving such trials and despair. He also could not manage anything but amazement at the look of genuine concern on Remus' face when he could tell that Severus was troubled by something.

One such incident occurred while the pair were enjoying a quiet morning at home during the summer. Remus had been mending a pair of trousers while Severus was reading the Daily Prophet and enjoying the beginning of his three blissfully student-free months of the year.

A small article near the back of the paper mentioned that a Muggle child visiting magical relatives in Hogsmeade had gone out with her cousins, who naturally showed her the Shrieking Shack during their tour of things in town worth seeing to an adolescent. The children had decided to play a game in seeing who could go the closest to the shack without being frightened away, when the 'ghosts' had made a sound (which Severus assumed was the wind or their over-active imaginations) and caused the Muggle child to become so frightened that she had an asthma attack. She recovered, but it had renewed the fears of the neighbourhood children that the decrepit building held violent spirits.

Obsidian eyes shifted to stare at the werewolf as Severus inconspicuously folded the paper so that he might not see the article. The potions master knew his lover well enough to know that he would feel partially at fault for the girls attack, even though he had not bee to the Shack since they had graduated from Hogwarts eight years before.

"Severus?" It was not until the brown-eyed man spoke that Severus realised his vision has blurred. He blinked, and then saw that familiar look of concern on Remus' face as he watched him. Remus' hand rested on Severus shoulder gently, "Severus…are you all right? What is it?"

The raven-haired man shook his head slowly in wonderment. His childhood trials, mild in comparison to his lover's, had left him bitter and cynical…he did not know how Remus could remain so empathetic and compassionate given his own.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Severus gripped the hand on his shoulder; "I'm fine, Remus. I was merely distracted by my thoughts."

"I noticed," the werewolf replied with a small, warm smile. He lifted his fingers to weave them in between the other man's. "Care to share what those thoughts were about?"

The obsidian-eyed man slid his fingers across the lycanthrope's, stroking the shorter man's fingers lightly. "The potion," he did not need to say which, "Belby's hit another impasse…I believe the problem lies in his choice of aconite. He should be using wolfsbane instead of monkshood, but he's apprehensive about the higher toxicity level. It's going to be a far more delicate ratio…and it was already daunting."

It was an easy lie, mainly because the potion was always in the back of his thoughts as of late…well, perhaps not _always_, but often enough. He and Damocles Belby had been consulting for several months, and Severus felt that their combined efforts were finally paying off. It would be no cure, but without tearing himself apart all night during each full moon, Remus would likely survive fifty years longer than he was currently expected to.

Remus studied Severus for a moment, and the potions master could tell that he knew there was more to it. Severus could not bring himself to broach the subject he had been thinking of, knowing it would only add to his lover's burdens if Remus knew that his disease haunted Severus as well. The potion, at least, could be passed off as being a combination of personal, academic, and professional interests.

Finally, brown eyes softened with resignation and understanding. "All right…I'll let you off the hook this time." Remus offered another mild smile as he sat again, "You shouldn't push yourself so hard with the potion, love. Werewolves have survived centuries already…you can afford to take your time."

Severus tossed the paper in the bin and turned his attention to his lover, hoping the werewolf was right.


	10. Painful

The word looked so innocuous in print. _The werewolf's monthly transformation is __**painful**__, but short-lived…'_ Severus felt the irrational desire to annihilate the tome…or better yet, its author.

He did not understand how every book he came across could speak of lycanthropic transformations with the same clinical detachment that one would use when describing how a caterpillar turned into a butterfly. Caterpillars might not have any choice in their transmutation either, but they did not scream bloody murder while their bodies were broken down and reformed in a matter of minutes…and they only had to go through it once in their entire futile existence, not on a monthly basis. There was also the little detail of them turning into a beautiful butterfly and not a mindless, ravenous animal that was hated and feared above all others.

"You're going to burn a hole through that book, glaring like that," commented a soft, hoarse voice. The obsidian-eyed man turned his head, to see Remus attempting to raise himself on his elbows. The tight set of his muscles told Severus that the scarred man would not manage the act without damaging himself.

"Stop that," the raven-haired man commanded as he tossed the offending book onto the bedside table carelessly. He stood and closed the few feet between himself and his lover's bed, perching on the edge of the mattress. "It is only six hours past moonset; you're not strong enough to rise…you aren't normally awake yet."

The fawn-haired man glanced at the window and frowned lightly at the early morning sun before turning to the taller man with a curious expression. "You're right…do you think it's…the new formula?" His breathing was shallow and his face was drawn; even though he had obeyed the command to stop trying to rise, he was still in pain.

"Most likely;" Severus weakly attempted his usual apathetic expression as he brushed Remus' hair away from his eyes. He was pleased to see that, though the lycanthrope's skin was pale and tight, his eyes were strong and warm. "It still didn't work however…you still injured yourself."

The brown-eyed man looked at his lover sympathetically and opened his mouth to speak, but Severus cut him off, knowing what he was about to say. "Don't you dare apologise."

Remus studied the other man for a moment before offering a mild smile and replying quietly; "I won't if you won't."

Severus shook his head despondently, lowering his voice as well. "It's been _years_."

The scarred man nodded patiently and reached for a sallow-skinned hand, which captured his own as soon as Severus noticed the movement. Remus continued to smile up at him. "You knew it could take years…decades even…when you started. You told me as much."

"I am known as one of the most promising potion brewers in all of Britain…so is Belby. I had hoped that with the two of us consulting on it…"

"You're still only human, love." Remus caressed the potion-stained fingers that wove between his, "But you've made so much progress…in potions _and _research into Dark Creatures-"

"_Never_. Call. Yourself. That." Severus clipped out as his gaze turned stern. "I have worked among _Dark Creatures_, and you…" Obsidian eyes softened slightly as they met a gentle gaze, "You are _nothing _like them."

The lycanthrope stroked Severus' fingers with his own as his smile faded and turned sad. "I'm s-"

Obsidian eyes squeezed shut as Severus tightened his grip on the other man's hand; "_Don't _apologise."

The sound of Remus inhaling deeply caused Severus to open his eyes several seconds later. He found the brown eyes closed as his had been, and Remus pressed the palm of his free hand to his forehead before running it through his hair. The thin hand finally rested beside its owner as he released another deep breath.

The werewolf blinked several times, erasing a little of the sorrow and frustration in his eyes each time, before they finally remained open and clear. Brown eyes caught obsidian ones watching them, and Remus offered a tired, apologetic smile. "So-" His jaw practically snapped shut and he squeezed his eyes closed as he took another deep breath before simply nodding.

Severus waited until Remus' face smoothed and his eyes opened again, revealing their usual strength and warmth, before he rubbed is thumb over the back of Remus' hand. Then, he sighed. "_I'm _sorry, Remus. I swear, if either of our fathers were still alive I'd poison them… Yours for taunting that damnable Greyback and then raising you to feel the need to compulsively apologise and placate everyone around you, and mine for leaving me with no clue how to comfort you other than to bark out orders and-"

"You comfort me just fine, Severus," Remus interrupted smoothly, "Better than anyone else could ever hope to…not that you have any competition to worry about, mind."

"There you go, placating me again…"

"That's not _placating_, it's _consoling_," corrected the werewolf. Then, his eyes took on a teasing glint; "Besides, you're already trying to break me of apologising any time I'm sorry, tearing myself up during the full moon, biting my nails, walking with my head bowed, and hunching when I sit…aren't I allowed _any _bad habits?"

"No," Severus replied immediately with a small smirk. "I have enough for us both."

"Well, that's true I suppose…"

Severus swatted the werewolf lightly before his expression smoothed and he ran his free hand through his lover's hair. "How do you manage comfort me…when you're the one-" He sighed and simply gestured over Remus, no longer trusting his voice.

The scarred man grasped Severus' other hand and lightly squeezed both; "Because you've already comforted me more than words can say by just being here when I woke up…by touching me and being with me even though you know what I am."

"What you are…?" Severus repeated softly. "You're better than I deserve."

"I'm sorry," Remus replied with a smile, "But I disagree."

The raven-haired man shook his head, but smirked in return. "Don't apologise…"


	11. Torture

Severus put a few slow acting poisons and some other concoctions that, while not fatal in the right doses, would be incredibly painful for a werewolf in his satchel…as he had done several times before over the past year.

Normally, werewolves were the easiest species to convince to join the Dark Lord's army; society usually turned them against humans, so all they had to do was offer a better life and that was that. Occasionally, one would resist…usually, they had been recently turned and wanted to try to fit in amongst humans, or else they grew up wild and did not care for people either way.

While torture was not Severus specialty, and he did not derive the pleasure from it that some others did, none could argue that the young man was gifted in the art. Because when Severus decided to turn his knowledge of spells and potions to any use, it was nothing less than a work of art. Sometimes, he wondered if that was why he proved so good at it; his approach was completely different from the other Death Eaters.

In any case, the young man was pleased to have his talents appreciated, and to have an opportunity to put them to use.

He was less pleased when it came to torturing lycanthropes, but he once overheard some of his comrades speaking about a werewolf that refused to cooperate and decided to offer some advice, since he knew more about lycanthropes than the average wizard. Once his knowledge proved sound, Severus became to go-to man whenever there was a werewolf that needed persuading.

At present, McNair told Severus about the strange werewolf as they approached the cellar in which it was contained; he claimed it was too docile and self composed, and that it had clearly been a werewolf for many years but did not seem to hold any grudge against the society that had ostracised it. In fact, it seemed that nothing anyone did or said earned any reaction from the creature. Severus found himself intrigued …and quickly assured himself that it had nothing to do with the werewolf from which his obsession with the species had spawned.

That was, until he neared the bound and caged lycanthrope, which did not struggle or snarl as the others before it had done. Severus had not seen Remus Lupin up-close in months, but he recognised the scarred, svelte form in a heartbeat.

For a moment, Severus could only stare into gentle, intelligent eyes. The specks of gold in them, unnoticeable unless you were gazing into them from a distance much closer than the youth allowed, were catching the torch light; the effect made anyone watching him well aware that there was something more staring out of the calm depths…something powerful and inhuman.

Pulling his eyes from Remus' gaze, Severus looked the werewolf over, realising that the torture had begun without him. Remus had been stripped and beaten, but he appeared calm and composed. The raven-haired youth did not need to ask to know that he had remained silent during the rough treatment.

Remus was merely waiting -with his endless patience and calm, and his remarkably high pain tolerance- for an opportunity to escape or for death to claim him. Severus knew him well enough, even after their lengthy separation, to know these things for a fact.

The other Death Eaters were completely inept if they thought they found a tame werewolf they could break in for their lord. As far as Severus was concerned, the fools deserved what was coming.

He ordered the werewolf to be removed from the cage and watched silently as Remus allowed himself to be manhandled with little protest, until the ropes binding the lycanthrope's hands were used to hang him on a dirty wall.

When the ropes suddenly caught fire, startling everyone else, Severus had to force himself not to smirk. The morons he called cohorts were too used to relying upon wands for everything…and they were in for a rude awakening. The obsidian-eyed youth found it ironically amusing that their upbringing as spoiled purebloods was about to cause them to have their arses handed back to them by a poor, half-blooded half-breed.

When the battered, wandless, naked werewolf turned to him after dispatching the last Death Eater in the room, Severus merely arched an eyebrow.

"Coming?" asked Remus, his voice hoarser than ever.

Severus allowed himself to smirk that time, "Right behind you." The smirk fell when he noticed the extent of the shorter man's injuries. "Just a moment…"

Severus quickly grabbed his satchel; he could make something that could ease pain just as well as cause it, and he always brought along a few healing draughts just in case…he never liked his prey dying by accident.

Remus interrupted him when he began ripping McNair's coat off. "Severus…? I think that might be tipping them off a bit, don't you?"

"I'll just say it was you and that you coerced me."

"In that case," the werewolf took one of the other Death Eaters' wands. "You can bring it back as proof…once we've prepared it."

Severus nodded and then followed Remus out of the cellar and into the woods, where he treated the lycanthrope's injuries as best he could once they had crossed a safe distance.

"…And when did Dumbledore start making you spy on the feral werewolves?"

"A few months before he started making you spy on the Death Eaters." Remus smiled gently at Severus' frown. "He only told me because he knew I could keep it secret and because we might meet up like this. He was worried I might treat you like the other Death Eaters."

"Really…?" Severus murmured as he wrapped McNair's cloak -and his own arms- around the werewolf. "It seems Dumbledore isn't all-knowing after all."

Severus smiled as his lover surrendered to his embrace, clearly feeling secure despite the pain and fatigue from his capture, and decided that their duties could wait a few more hours.


End file.
